Ask And Learn
by birdofflame587
Summary: Sam’s at that age when little children ask questions. Like they say on Sesame Street - asking questions is a good way of finding something out. And Sam wants to know - “Dean, why don’t we have a mommy?”


**Summary: **Sam's at that age when little children ask questions. Like they say on Sesame Street - asking questions is a good way of finding something out. And Sam wants to know - "Dean, why don't we have a mommy?"

**Ask And Learn…**

**By Adrian A aka Blackthorne**

­"Dean, why don't we have a mommy?" little Sammy asks his older brother with confusion evident in his tone.

Dean shifts his gaze from the television and looks over at the six year old with bewilderment. What on Earth had brought on that question, he wondered. Sam had never displayed any interest in their lack of a mother figure before and Dean didn't quite know what to make of it. And more importantly - he didn't know how to answer the question tactfully.

"Why do you wanna know?" Dean asks, answering a question with a question, stalling for time.

"I just wanna," Sam responds in a soft voice.

Just typical of Sam. Wanting to know just for knowing's sake. Dean was well aware that when Sam starts asking questions, the kid doesn't stop until he gets answers. He has what they call a **need** to know, apparently. Smart kid. A little **too** smart sometimes, Dean wagered, as Sam seemed to have an uncanny ability to tell when someone was lying to him or avoiding the question. Like some freakish kind of kiddy ESP even.

"You never wanted to know before," Dean says, hoping that his father would get home by tomorrow, so **he** could answer this particular question. In a rare moment, Dean admitted his inadequacy to himself, knowing full well that he couldn't handle this the way it should be handled. He may have been very mature for his age, forced to ripen before his natural season - but he was still just a boy ten years old, going on eleven.

"Well I wanna know NOW," replies Sam, scrunching up his nose petulantly in the way that always made Dean smile. Except this time, it failed to muster up any mirth on Dean's part.

Trying to placate Sam before he reaches his tantrum phase, Dean says, "Take it easy, will ya? I just wanna know - why now?"

Sam doesn't directly answers Dean's question. Maybe because he himself cannot understand the reason behind the timing. But Dean's a quick study and works it out on his own…with a little help from Sammy.

"Josh has a mommy. And Amy too," Sam simply states. "And Ronny and Tyrel…and…"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture."

It figures, Dean thought. Hanging around those kids had Sam asking questions about why their family wasn't like other families. Sam's playing with the neighborhood kids was their secret. A secret they kept between themselves and from their father. John Winchester's only real aim when it came to his kids, was keeping them safe. Even to the point where their education suffered due to constantly moving from one town to the next. Other kids griped about going to school - Sam (and secretly Dean) wished they were schoolhouse regulars. That's how bad it was.

It took only a little while for Dean to realize what John didn't (or wouldn't). That they needed more than security. They needed to be happy. And while Dean hadn't yet discovered what could make him happy - he had figured out what could make Sam a little more contented. A taste of normalcy, of experiencing the life of a regular kid, even for a little while. That was something which was taken away from Dean without any say on his part.

While he played the role of the tough little soldier for his father, at times Dean envied other kids so badly that he resented John for the way he raised them. And then he'd succumb to feelings of guilt and shame as he reminded himself that their father was doing the best he could. That kind of inner conflict wasn't what he wanted for Sam. Of course he couldn't vocalize and express those thoughts at the time, but Dean could sense that letting Sam play with those kids was the right thing to do. He could **feel** it.

After the long pause precipitated by the inner ramblings of his mind, Dean spoke, "Well Sam, not everyone has a mommy. I mean - um -" a sudden thought hit him, "You remember Sesame Street? The **You're A Family** song?"

A look of recognition flashed across Sam's features. "Yeah. I remember that song…" He trailed off as he sang a few of the words, having memorized most of the songs on the classic children's program - his favorite being _Duwop Duwop, Hop_!

Dean thought he saw an easy way out of this conversation. "Well, Sam, see what I mean? Not everybody has a mommy."

Unfortunately for Dean, Sam was not so easily appeased. "But Sesame Street is make believe. Everybody I know has one. Where's our mommy, Dean?"

Just great, Dean thought. Of all the times for Sam to distinguish between **real** and **make believe** with respect to Sesame Street - now just HAD to be it.

"She…" Dean paused, almost falling for the cliché trap - that of saying she was in Heaven. That would only open up a whole new can of worms. Sam as yet had no real grasp of the concept of death, something Dean was acquainted with at the age of four…

The words of the song echoed in Dean's mind, _Each home may be different, but I don't ask why. Cuz love is all I need to get by…_

_Damn_, Dean thought, _now that song's stuck in my head too_.

"One, two, three - you're a family!" Sam finishes off the song's chorus with a flourish.

"See, there you go. Mom there or not - you're still a family," Dean said with - he hoped - finality.

"I know that," Sam pouts, "Amy's mommy doesn't live with her and her daddy. But she comes to visit. I met her, she's nice."

"Sam…" Dean trailed off, not liking the territory they were heading into.

Sam's eyes were fast becoming shiny. "I just wanted to know where our mommy is. And why…why she doesn't come visit us? Doesn't she love us, Dean?"

This was just too much.

"Yes, she did - DOES - she does love us. A lot," Dean quickly responded.

"Then why isn't she ever here?" Sam asks, tears threatening to overflow.

_She's here alla the time, Sammy. And she watches us from Heaven_, Dean answers Sam's question with his thoughts, because he dares not do it with his words. And perhaps he thinks it to comfort himself as well.

Dean pulls Sam over, knowing in times like these he was the type who needed a hug. Really clingy kind of kid. "She's not here because…"

_Think! Think of something you idiot!_ the elder's inner voice chided.

"Dean, when daddy goes away, does he go looking for mommy?" Sam suddenly asks, as if realizing something for the first time. It spares Dean from answering his last question. "Is he gonna bring our mommy home?"

As yet Sam was in the dark about John's mysterious disappearances…

Dean gave up trying to come up with a way to sugar coat the issue. Somehow, he felt that when the truth came out, it would only make things worse. Maybe it was time to try out that _honesty is the best policy_ thing.

"I'm sure she wants to be here with us, Sammy" Dean carefully started, "but sometimes you just can't have what you want."

"But why?" Sam whined.

"It's…it's something that dad will have to explain to you," Dean continued, "when you're a little bit older."

"But why can't you? You know **everything**, Dean." Sam asks, ignoring the issue about his being too young to know.

_Ah, the worshipping phase_, Dean thought, _wonder how long it will last?_

"No, I don't know everything," Dean admitted to Sam for the first time in his life. "I'm just a kid too…" Dean said. Those words sounded strange to his ears indeed. His father considered him to be a man. A role Dean did his best to play.

"You're not a kid, Dean," Sam smiled.

_Ah, he's smiling again! Thank God!_ Dean sighed with relief at the thought.

"Sure I am."

"No, you're all grown up. And you take care of me like grown ups do," Sam stated, justifying his belief that Dean wasn't a child.

Apparently a four year age difference was enough for six year old Sam to believe that. And the maturity and responsibility forced upon Dean - ordinarily designated to grown ups - must have contributed to that belief as well.

Sam continued shyly, "You do mommy things. You're my brommy!"

Dean gasped at Sam play on words and thought _Oh God…_

Sam expounded on the list of things Dean did for him that was _mommy like_. Dean made his breakfast, lunch and dinner. Whenever he got a boo boo, Dean took care of it. Dean did the laundry and got the groceries, and always made sure that he got Sam's favorite - _**Lucky Charms**_. And one time he even made Sam a birthday cake.

_He's got a good memory_, Dean thought. _Too bad I burned it_.

"And you bake me cookies, and read me bedtime stories, and tuck me in…" Sam trails off.

Dean smiled a little, secretly wishing that he'd had someone to do those things for him.

"I'm glad you're my brommy, Dean," Sam states at the end of his prattle.

"I'm…glad too," Dean replies, grateful that the conversation didn't end up with Sam in tears. Because doing damage control was the last thing their father would need to deal with when he got home.

Sam hugged his older brother and said, "Until mommy comes home, I have you."

_Hurry up and get home, dad!_ Dean's inner voice once again screamed.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"When mommy comes home, will you still read me bedtime stories?" Sam asks a little pensively.

Crying on the inside, Dean still manages to muster up a smile. "Sure I will."

"Good. Cuz you always tell the best bedtime stories."

The mentioning of 'bedtime stories' drew Dean's attention to the time. It was way past Sam's bedtime. Their father wanted him tucked in by nine and it was nearly eleven.

"And speaking of bedtime - I think it's time for a story right now."

"Yeah!" Sam exclaims, clutches his ever present teddy bear and takes off for his bed.

Dean slowly gets up and walks towards their bedroom. All things considered, he thought he'd handled that pretty good. His father would be pleased…

**The End…**


End file.
